"Well, would you look at you," said Nana. "Just like Loretta Young. She used to make them grand entrances through fancy double doors on her TV program years ago. Just once I was wishin' she'd get her train caught between the doors so's I could see the surprise on her face, but all the times I watched, it never happened. It was my biggest disappointment of the fifties. But now your dress. There's not enough of it to get caught in the door. Turn around. Lemme see the whole thing."

I spun around on one black stiletto heel and kicked up my other foot in an ingenue pose. Luckily, the dress I'd selected fit like a latex glove. The neckline was low enough to show cleavage. The hemline high enough to show lots of leg. And in between, it was all sexy black shimmer. I'd bought strappy heels, black hose, and pinned my hair up into a French twist with a few wispy corkscrew curls tickling my neck. "I'm a knockout, right?" I asked Nana.

"Yup. A real knockout. Is your nose blue?"

"Unhhhh!" I ran to the mirror. "But I bought foundation. I bought more concealer. How can it still be blue?"

"It'll probably be dark where you're goin' tonight. Maybe your young man won't notice."

"But what if he does?"

"Then tell him the truth."

"The truth?" Hmm. I hadn't thought of that. Nana always had the most original ideas.

"You shouldn't be ashamed a your nose, Emily. You should be proud of it. You done a real brave thing today, and George is real appreciative. I'm sure he'll do something special for you to show his appreciation when he's released from the hospital."

Yeah. Maybe he could save me from the death squad that was out to get me.

"Are you plannin' to bring your young man back to the room with you tonight? If you are, I could make myself scarce and go visit Bernice."

Bernice. Unh. I sighed deeply. "About Bernice, Nana, how much do you really know about her?"

"She's the undefeated champ a the five-yard dash in the Senior Olympics. She's lived in Windsor City all her life. Loves to gossip. Don't have much of a sense a humor. She's treasurer a the Legion a Mary, but I'm not sure why 'cause her math's not real good. We keep comin' up short. I think we need to buy her a calculator. She was widowed real young. Would like to have some plastic surgery but can't afford it. I think she preferred the days when she modeled for that magazine. She still has old issues lyin' all over her house. They're the first thing you see when you visit her. She don't much like havin' a dowager's hump and wrinkles. She'd rather look like you, or maybe blond, like that Angowski woman. Why are you lookin' like that, dear? You look like you just seen a ghost."

Oh. My. God. Could Bernice have pushed Shirley off the cliff out of jealousy? Was she so bitter about getting old that she'd resorted to killing women who were younger and prettier? How twisted was that? "Nana, you may not want to hear this, but I think Bernice may somehow be involved with the deaths."